The Day After the Last Day

Every year we go on vacation to Miramar Beach, Florida with my parents – it’s near Destin and we love it. We always stay in condos next door to each other and we have a BLAST. It’s a sandy, suncscreen coated disaster but we love it.

My awesome-sauce parents!

The big bridge to Destin..when you see this you know you are getting close!

We do lots of exciting stuff while we are there including going to the beach, then to the pool, then to the beach, then take a nap, then to the tiki bar, then to the pool. Occasionally we shake it up and rent a pontoon boat or go shopping…or both.

The bay where we always see dolphins. This year did not disappoint!

My feet, in their happy place!

I take vacations pretty seriously. I get all relaxed on vacation and do crazy stuff. Like, let the kids throw their crap everywhere, pig out on food I would never eat and take selfies.

P and I gettin’ our tan on

P, S & I doing our best ‘duck face’ selfie!

And don’t get me started on the drinking. HOLY crap do I drink while on vacation!! There is usually that moment at around 11:30 where you look around and think…is it okay to have a beer? And then, one beer leads to two and then before you know it you’re all like “Hey ya’ll – we need more beer!” I rarely drink beer but something about sand and sun equal beer to me!

First beer of the trip consumed at 11:30 AM at The Whale’s Tale…I can still taste it.

This year my sister joined us. We don’t see her often (she lives in Cali) but things always get spicier when we get together!

My beautiful daughters

My beautiful daughters plus my beautiful sister!

We were blessed with outstanding weather – lots of sun and literally, 4 raindrops. Our ‘rainy’ day was really just wind and grey clouds…this made for awesome sunset shots.

The whole fam damily!

We got back from our trip yesterday and I decided that the day after the last day of vacation is just the worst. Since it is an annual trip, I am never further away from our next trip than I am on the day after the last day. Then there is all the unpacking, laundry, huge run to the grocery store and grumpy, tired, sandy kids. Then, you turn around and it’s Monday and back to work. Fugghetaboutit…Next year I am just going to stay 2 weeks…or 52 weeks. Until then, this little nugget will just have to keep us entertained!